Hard Marks, Thumb Prints, and Tears
by HalfwayHeart1342
Summary: I'm just another nobody, broken, lost...searching for something. Sad to say, I never realized what lied below my nose. I was in love with Kendall Francis Knight, and that is what breaks me of my sorrow. Attempted suicide, self mutilation, depression. KendallXJames.
1. White

White. From every corner of the room, all was but a single color, and that color only meant failure.

Seemed that no matter what, I could never escape the brute of the hell which surrounded me day in and day out; capturing me, and soiling me into indefinite darkness. The excruciating pain of my heart emptying all out of what once was in my body, onto the paschal floor which spoke the name of the fake and wealthy, signaled my last ounce of hope breaking away. Decorative droplets of my anger, my heartache, my misery, my depression, scattered across the tiles in hard marks, thumb prints, and tears.

No one could see what was going on in my head, and when I reached for help, I was shunned away. I hated myself. I wanted happiness to knock on my door, and embrace me upon meeting face to face. But, that never happened. Everyone looked upon me as the conceited, shallow, good for nothing band boy who cared about nothing but himself. Well, they're right. I'm all they say of me. They heard me sing, but they never understood the lyrics like I did, what was put into it- the emotion and distress I was experiencing was the base to it all. When I would look at myself in the mirror in the morning and the way I would at night, shown two different worlds completely polar to one another.

Mornings, excitement never disappointed me, I was ready for the day, perfecting myself until I was satisfied. However, this would take longer than usual. I had to cover myself in a makeup of another face to ensure no one saw my night massacre. I grew out my hair so that when I got upset at myself for being stupid, if I hit my head on the wall, no one would notice the bruise that burned me of my self hate. Every morning I made myself believe this day will be better, and tomorrow, even better. Even after I ingrained those words into my skull, things never turned out right.

By night, I was beaten emotionally. I was restless, and constantly trying to sleep. After a few hours when the others are fast gone in their dreams, I'd get out of bed and sneak to the bathroom, and cry. That mirror mocked me of myself, discriminating me of my size, my personality, my face, my day's troubles, everything. Sometimes, when things got out of hand, I'd search for Mrs Knight's razor, and paint my skin red until the gut wrenching feel that suffocated me subsided.

No one suspected a thing.

During Winter, I'd mark up my arms, going deeper and deeper with each day, all hidden under my jacket. Come Spring, I would allow my arms to heal, but attack my thighs, cutting horrid things that would recollect my memory of how pathetic I am. Summer, I would slice up my abdomen, leaving my legs be. Fall, I would go for my arms again, as well as my legs. By the end of the year, I would have well over 1,700 new scars. At the beginning of a new, I would cry in furry at my stupidity.

As I faintly open my eyes, my head aches at the sudden shock of the light penetrating my lens. Once the world comes in focus, I slowly turn my head to my right, my sight landing upon Kendall. The brief glance of his sleeping form recollected all that happened that previous night. Tears broke out, streaming down my flushed cheeks. Images of the night previous impaled me, reminding me as to why I was here, in this room of white.

~12:30 PM, December 21, 2014~

"You know what James? We're done. I'm sick of your shit. Actually, I think we all are. Your lies, your manipulation. You don't think we can't see through your fake-ass stories? Get the fuck out." Kendall points towards the door of Rocque Records as he yells at me, his voice shaking with rage, and his eyes flooding with hurt.

'I did it again. I hurt him. I hurt everyone. God, I'm so fucking stupid! I can't do anything right!'

Without a word, I walk towards the door, stopping, and looking back once. My face was cold, but I smiled. Not out of sick hysterics, but because I came to conclusion. Finally, I made my decision.

"Fine. I'll leave. Could tell I wasn't wanted here anyway." I feel my heart rising to my throat, causing my voice to crack. With that, I left. No turning back now. No second thoughts or chances. It was out that I wasn't cared for, I wasn't loved. Not if everyone was pushing me away. First, I lose my mom. Second. my job. And third, the love of my life. I had no reason to stay, which only encouraged me more to lay down my gun, and rot away.

Since I didn't have a car, I walked back to the Palm Woods. Blood gushed into my ears, echoing as my head pounded. My face was pink, and I was just about at the breech of tears. Going through the entrance, all eyes were on me, narrowed, and full of disgust. News spreads too fast the for the greater good of anyone, Kendall must have told Jo and Camille, for they too joined the crowd of glares. My mouth went dry under pressure, and I hurry to the elevator, liquid now seeping out of hiding. I bite my lip, trying to hold in all the pressure that squeezed me to the point it became hard to breathe. The doors open, and I enter, facing the wall until the doors closed.

The moment I heard the slates of metal come together, I let go. Emotion overwhelmed me, anger scratching at my body until the white marks were joined by small beads of crimson. I convulsed violently, holding myself until I reached the floor of the band. The rest became blurry. I didn't recall opening the door to apartment 2J, and entering. My vision consisted of watery light, my throat tightening.

Enraged, I go throughout the apartment, wrecking all I laid my hands on. This went on for a few minutes, before I made way for the bathroom. I pulled out my phone, and click onto Kendall's contact. Then, I began what I wished to be my last message to anyone ever.

_I love you. Goodbye, Kendall.  
_

I drop my phone after I hit send, and all I hear is the crash as it breaks. Suddenly, everything goes silent. I find the razor, but don't retrieve my usual bandages. I slide down to the floor, and stare at the sharp tip for a while. It all leads down to this. Those years of dealing with the abuse of my father, the bullying at school, the constant mocking, and anger. It all ends here.

The blade is raised, and place above my wrist. Gritting my teeth, and I push down with as much force as I could, and slide the point up my arm. Instantly my arm is inflamed, blood gushing from the wound that I inflicted upon myself. 'Nobody loves you. You're a piece of trash.' I rip open my other arm, crying out at the intensity that caused bile to race up my throat. I lean over the toilet, and throw up, blood collecting on the side of the porcelain shitter.

It all goes blurry once more as darkness edges my vision. As the minutes went, my body grew weaker. But that weakness made me happy. It meant I was leaving. Leaving everything behind. I didn't mind that. But Kendall's face penetrates my mind as I thought I heard his voice, calling out my name. Seconds later, the door was being banged on, his voice echoing in my ears, panic written all over. At that point, I didn't have enough strength to listen. As my world goes black, the door is kicked down, and I'm being picked up my someone. My last source of vision tunneled around Kendall's teary-eyed, beautiful face. He was screaming, but I could no longer hear his voice above the ringing in my ears.

Under my breath, I whispered softly, only in ears of my love.

"I'm sorry."


	2. Princess and the Frog

~12 AM, December 24, 2014~

I watched as Kendall twitches his nose in his sleep, and smile softly as I see he was beginning to wake up. No one else was in the room, it was just he and I. Soon, his eyes met mine, and they widen at realization. "James.." He whispers, and it warms my heart only a little. I go to open my mouth, but find I couldn't. All I could do was stare. I watch as Kendall leans in his chair, getting closer. There were bags under his eyes, meaning he barely slept during the time in the hospital. Noticing I was wanting to speak, he suspected my mouth was dry. "Hold on…I'll get you some water…" Kendall goes to get up, but sees that I was moving my arm.

Instead, he remains, listening intensely. With a crack of my throat, I manage to mutter a few words that I knew would break him. "Fu...ck...Y...ou...I…w-wan..ted...to...die." I see the change in emotion in his eyes, but his face remains solid. His trembling hand touches my cheek, pulling slightly away from the chills of my cold skin. Kendall knits his eyebrows together, and starts to lean in, eyes fluttering.

The monitor's rhythmic beeping increased in its pace, and I see the grin threatening to show on his face. It was almost like the whole world around me was slowing down with each millimeter the boy I fell for all those years ago got closer. Like the first time we ever kissed...

~April 13, 2011~

"Are you sure we won't get caught?" I whisper across the auditorium to Kendall Francis Knight, the school's infamous hockey jock, and also my best friend. He peers over with a goofy smile plastered to his face, and nods rapidly.

"Even if anyone tried getting in, they couldn't. I have all the keys." I chuckle, and attempt to keep myself from blushing, knowing exactly what was coming up soon. Kendall locks the East wing door before turning around, and just staring, looking me up and down. Out of no where, I feel warmth invade my stomach, and my mouth becomes dry out of amazement of just...him.

I will never forget the scenery. The following night was NJHS night, at least 15 rusted, grey seats lined the stage, all containing a stench that reminds your of the iron taste of blood in your mouth. Reserved signs hung from a couple rows ends, with "Reserved for NJHS" in large, silver font. I couldn't help but look up at the ceiling, and smile to myself at sight of a little yellow ball. It was the first thing I saw upon coming to this school, and for some reason it reminded me of me. Always seen, but yet never noticed.

Kendall slowly makes his way over to me, his lower lip dangling enough to show his pearly white teeth. I suck in my breath as he gets closer, carefully sitting down so that my feet dangle from the stage's edge. His eyes never leave mine, and soon enough he is in front of me. I feel his cool breath graze my lips, and inhale the aroma of his axe cologne. It truly was intoxicating.

"You remember that story Ms. Peterson read to us in third grade? About the princess and the frog?" I tilt my head, and smile in confusion, but I remember.

"Yea...? What about it?" A large grin charges onto the blonde's face.

"You've always told me you felt ugly, and small. Well...if I kiss you...You'll be a magnificent prince...My prince." A blush creeps on my cheeks, and I look down to my hands, biting my lip.

"But..." Kendall lifts up my chin, and I find myself staring into his green eyes.

My heart pounds harder than it has before, ringing penetrating my ears as the boy before me gets closer and closer. I taste his breath, and something sparks inside me. His lips meet mine ever so lightly, and at the moment, I knew what ever would happen in the future, wouldn't matter. Because as of now, I was reborn. Butterflies take flight in my stomach, and I find myself get closer to him so that our thighs were touching. A tingle chills up our spines at the contact, but by the time it reached our brains, we were already exploring. With each kiss, more butterflies took off, but soon came to a sudden stop at the sound of people banging on the doors. Insecurity instantly drapes a dark shadow over my head, and all light seeps from me. Thinking wisely, Kendall pulls out his phone and puts the screen in my vision.

"Isn't she hot, dude? I mean, looks at those tits, and that ass! Just...stunning..." The door where the people were opened, and in came Jase, his girlfriend Lyvie, Trent, and Mark.

"What'd you got there, guys?" Mark's snot-shot voice echoes, and it makes our stomachs tighten. Kendall looks up plainly.

"None of your business, Marcus D'Angelo." The boy puts his cellphone away, his line of sight locked straight with Mark's.

"Told you not to call me that, you little shit."

"Inappropriate language, Marcus D'Angelo. Wouldn't want me telling your dad on you, would you. Because you and I both know, things always turn out right." I hear a click as Kendall hits the recorder that he always carried in his pockets.

"You scare me so much, Knight! Oh, tell my daddy on me? The fuck he gunna do? Ground me? That stupid fatass won't do nothin." Lyvie steps up and whispers something in Mark's ear, and it causes his eyebrows to twitch. "Fine. Lets go, leave these faggots to it. Remember, I'm watching." Mark points his finger to us before leading his group out of the auditorium. I let out all the air that I had sucked in during the time they were in here. That was close. Once the doors close, Kendall turns off the recorder, and then faces me, licking his lips. I guess in his mind, I was the best there was, because from that moment on, he couldn't keep his hands off me. For the remainder of our time in the auditorium, we made out. By the end, we were both breathless, and simply happy. I lean into the beautiful boy, closing my eyes.

"I love you Kendall Francis Knight..." I feel a kiss plant on my forehead, and breath on my ear.

"I love you too James Lee Diamond..."

~12:10 AM, December 24, 2014~

Kendall's soft, wet lips met my cracked, dry ones, and that old spark shot through me once more. I feel liquid drip down my face, and I look to see him crying as he kisses me. He pushes more into me as his body trembles. Kendall breaks the kiss, and lets out a sob, digging his head into the crevice of my neck.

"Don't you DARE say that! God, James...Why'd you have to do this...Why do you...God...Just...Why..." His hands turn into fists, and my throat goes numb seeing him like this. Minutes dragged on, filled with the repetitive gasps, sobs, and choking sounds that came from my ex boyfriend. How I wanted to rub his back, say I'm sorry. Yet, I didn't entirely feel so. He hurt me. Broke MY heart. He should be here...Not me...

No.

That's selfish.

I am a selfish person...but...

No, you're not. Just confused is all...

I use all the strength left in me to lift my neck and mutter out hoarsely to him. "Ke..ndall...I...I'm...sorry...I...wish...I wasn't...like this...I'm...sorry..." My pitch goes high as he leans in and kisses me again. His breathing was as heavy and ragged as mine were, his hands wandering over my stomach, rubbing lightly. "No, don't say you're sorry...I should be...I put you in he-ere...God, baby I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..." I bite my lip as he breaks once more.

"I...put me...in...here...Me...No-ot...you..." With that, I'm sucked into a deep sleep. However, good dreams raced across my subconscious...and it made me happy. I saw Kendall's body gleaming in the sun on a beach chair by the Palm Woods pool. I watch as his chest rises and falls as sweat beaded out onto his skin. I wanted him. Not sadness. Him. He is my happiness. My everything. I need him.

I need him...


	3. Sunny Day

_Dear Journal,_

_It has been two months since my release from the hospital. To my better sake, I was placed into a mental institute, "Sunny Day Institute," they called it. I have _

_been here for about six weeks. Just recently I was given you to write down my thoughts and feelings, you know, to get them out. I don't see how this is going to _

_help, I've written songs before stating what I feel inside, and yet, nothing. I don't feel happy. I don't feel uplifting, like a large mass of weight was removed from _

_my shoulders. Instead...I'm just...as I always am I guess. Dead. Empty. Sort of like some vacuum accumulated itself within my soul and sucked out any sense of _

_any positive feelings. Treatment hasn't seem to touched yet...I still have the urges._

_Every time I look around the living room area here, I see people who set themselves higher than I have placed myself. They seem fine. Perfectly fine. Only here _

_due to their own selfishness and attention-craving actions- its pathetic._ _Maybe that's why they're here. They feel so pathetic within their bodies...like me. Except... I_

_have a real problem...visual, mental, physical...problems...I want to cut up my skin...Burn myself...Allow myself to bleed out onto the floor...Just, end it all... But, I _

_know I can't. I have my love waiting for me outside these clear doors that self say 'we are crazy, we are nuts, we want to kill ourselves, we are fucked.' That's what _

_everyone is here for from my understanding...even my roommate, Darren._

_Darren, he's interesting. Interesting as he is a true mystery. He wakes up before I do, and just walk out of our room without a word. He always sits alone in the living _

_area, never saying a word to anybody. The guy is constantly with counselors, and last night...you tried using one of my shirts to choke himself to death...It kind of _

_scared me...makes me want to go home. Home sounds pretty great right now...I'm not so sure that I enjoy the concept of being here, even though I need it..._

_I'll write later, when I need to. _

_Off to Music Period..._

_Sincerely,_

_James_

I close my blue journal before storing it under my mattress, making sure it won't be seen. Upon seeing the time, I need the call for Music Period would be coming up soon, and I wanted to walk out right as it is said. Right on schedule, once the small, ticking clock in my room hit 4 o'clock. The blue walls clouded my vision, catching my attention as it always does. I stare at them until I close the door behind me; the porcelain floor was cold and slippery under my socked feet. My mind remained blank, as every step was routine for me. Others emerged from their rooms, all wearing the same attire as me- white shirts and baby blue pants.

We were like a crowd of zombies. None us changed pace, wore a smile; all stuck in our own personal hells. I really wanted Kendall here, each day grew more and more uncomfortable for me. Mainly, because there were people who were fans of me...and they always pop out of nowhere and start talking to me. I love my fans, but they need to learn to give me space... Almost on queue, a girl named Caroline poofed next to me.

"Evening Jay! How was your session with Ms. Gilbert? Mine went great. She thinks I can be out soon. Just think, if you get better, and we both leave, maybe we can have some sort of conjoined future together!" The blonde's voice was monotone, but even I knew she was happy. At least she was...I'd do anything to be where she is. My eyes wander to her, and for a split second, she looked exactly like Kendall. I stopped walking and blinked, taking a second look.

Yes, just as I thought.

I'm going insane, I'm driving myself insane.

Everywhere I go, everyone I see.

It's all him.

Kendall.

I need to get out.

I need these two months to fly by. I miss him.

I really hope things are going alright...

Kendall POV

"Mom?" I pick my head up from my hands as my mom walks into James' and I's bedroom. It's been extremely empty without him. Everyone seems...different. Different as in unhappy. Carlos, Logan, Katie, my mom, everyone. Our fan pages are filled with sympathy, everyone wishing James recovery. I stopped going on the internet, checking my phone, email, watching TV. No matter what I do, where I go, I just feel that sense of guilt of me being responsible for the pain he's felt. I hate it. Mom looks down at me, a half smile on her face. Even she hasn't been as bright as normal.

"What's wrong sweetie?"

That's it. I couldn't hold it in anymore. Sobs shook my body, tears poured like a river. Instantly my mom was at my side, holding me.

_~October 2, 2012~_

_"James! James it's alright! I'll be there as quick as I can, alright?! Hold on, baby, I'll be there soon!" I hung up the phone, my heart sounding louder than a bass drum in my chest. His voice scared me. The only thing I new at that moment, was to get a ride to his house right away. I rush out of my home, going out to the shed to retrieve my bike. He needed me. HE needed me. Fucking parents. _

_Actually._

_Fucking horrible fathers._

_The streets zoomed past me as it seemed I was in a race with the wind to get to James.' When I arrived, I slammed my way into the hell home, and immediately hurried to the stairs. Once at his room, I hear his cries coming from across the hall in the bathroom. Ringing stung like a million bees with each step that I advanced. I open the door to the bathroom, and see him on the ground. He looked...strange. James was curled up in a ball, his hair a mess, nose dripping, eyes blood shot. I noticed red on the floor, but thought of it as the blood the flooded out of his nose. His dad hit him again. _

_Fucking prick._

~present~

"I could have seen it! I should have noticed! God, I'm so fucking stupid!" I wail out.

My mom just held me.

And I'm glad for it.

James POV

Group.

Great.

I look around at the people who...I guess where new? I was removed from my music period to do group, because that is what my counselor recommended. To expose my feelings to strangers more- that that will benefit me, help me improve my emotional communication. Yeah right. As everyone had a chance to tell their stories, and how they feel about their pitiful lives, the last turn was me. Their eyes burned me, and it made me start to shake with anxiety. Sad I get terrified talking to a small group about my stupid feelings, when I am perfectly fine preforming before millions. I look at Ms. Gilbert with nervous eyes, and she nods her head, motioning to go on. I bite my lip before sucking in a deep breath, allowing my words to slip off my tongue.

"My name is James. And I'm here for attempted suicide. For a stupid reason. Or, well, reasons..." My eyes flash to everyone in the circle before continuing.

" I've wanted to kill myself since I was in fifth grade, and just never came around to doing so until a few months ago...I, uh...I cut...a lot...Almost as if I'm addicted..." Tears well my eyes, and I quickly blink them away.

"Probably am...So...I cut too deep this time...on purpose...I was enraged, and at that moment I felt as if I was alone...Everyone hated me...because I did something stupid that people weren't too keen about...

"I'm gay. And, I wasn't supposed to go to the tabloids about it, but...I couldn't hold it in anymore. I grew up hiding myself, my feelings...I had to tell everyone... Fans would sneak into my room, and try to touch me. I-I didn't like it...I know, weird...but...thats me...

" I knew I was gay since I was in fifth grade...and the whole killing myself was for that purpose...My dad...he didn't accept gays...and he thought that if he...if he m-molested me...maybe I wouldn't like guys." I just stare at my counselor, a tear rolls down my cheek.

"And, the worst thing was, I had feelings for my best friend...I held it in for years...never saying anything...but then, I was so happy, because I learned that he liked me back...Then my dad found out...I couldn't go to school after that day for at least two weeks...he beat me to the point I lost all confidence within myself...and I just..cracked...fell...But Kendall was there for me...It wasn't until right before I attempted...to k-kill myself...he broke up with me...I was already having a really, REALLY off day...My head was..uh.. fucking with me...that just...pushed me over the edge...I still want to tell myself that it's alright, but I know it's not. I screwed everything up for my future...No one will take me...The band is breaking up, all because of me...So...

"Now I'm here, trying to get better...try to accept myself for who I am, what I am...And just learn to work around problems...so..yeah...That's my story." I bow my head, and wipe away the tears that spilled from my face. My story was scrambled, I just truly hoped that people wouldn't call me pathetic for it...although I already know they do. That's why I was removed from my last group. I ended up leaving it because they ALL beat on me verbally.

I was surprised that no one said anything, except one girl...

"I have faith in you..."

That actually lifted my mood for the rest of the day.

Now for visitors day tomorrow.

I needed to see Kendall.


	4. Cut Burn Scratch Die

_Dear Journal,_

_I saw Kendall today. _

_I can't come close to explaining the sensations that overwhelmed me at mere sight of him. It was as if he were a soldier returning home after two years of war, on the frontier with each battle, facing death with each passing moment...Exhilarating, heart-felt, memorable. My stomach leaped to my chest, and all that buzzed across my sudden fuzzy mind was '**him**.' Nothing can cloud me more than the thought, sight, and feel of Kendall Francis Knight. I somehow knew that he was experiencing the same as I, because tears trickled the edges of his beautiful jade green eyes. Katie was at his side, holding his hand tight, probably imagining what we'd be doing if I weren't trapped in this place. I grew numb, and remorse for my actions scratched sharply at my heart. I tried soso hard to keep my composure, and luckily, I succeeded.  
_

_ As he drew close enough, I mouthed his name, and soon then were his arms crushing me to his body. I didn't want it to end. We stood there for what seemed like forever...before my nurse came to inform me to bring them to my table in the back of the cafeteria. We talked, cried, laughed, and sung. Carlos and Logan arrived a little while after, and quickly joined in. It felt like I was home.._

_And then the bell rang._

_Saying goodbye was the worst, because I don't know when I'll see them next. The last I did was four weeks ago...and that's because I lost the privilege to...Not only did I pick a fight with an obnoxious kid in my old group, but I was also checked for anymore self inflictions, and they found some on my abdomen. I don't want to get into anymore details on it...It was a mistake, and I shouldn't have let myself drain of self restraint.. _

_I kissed Kendall, and his hand left mind. I saw him make a fist as he hurried after Carlos, Logan, and Katie..._

_I want to leave._

_I shouldn't have come here in the first place, I shouldn't have done what I did. _

_Why can't they let me out?_

_I want to go home, have some soup, play hockey with the guys._

_DO SOMETHING!_

_Now I'm stuck in my room until the dinner bell at 6...it's only 4, which sucks. I'm not hungry. I just...became more fearful of enclosed spaces like this...I can't be in here for long or else I will start panicking..._

_I guess I'll go read some more, they gave me the book "Life as we Knew it," and I have to say I really enjoy it. Makes me wonder what life would be like if we were in that situation. No electricity, large food shortage, crime- how many people would survive? I bet people would think I couldn't, because of what I've shown myself as...They would have to double-take if they saw what truly I was capable of...Maybe then I would be thought of more seriously._

_My thoughts are all over the place. One minute, I believe in myself, the second, I don't. And then I get some stupid idea that I will do greatly one day, and then...it gets ruined by my insecurity and self hate. That's what they need to rid of. My self hate. I'm told only I can do that, but how can I with the things they've been having us do? We play games, have group, have our own individual one on one sessions with or psychologists and psychiatrists. Just because we speak what we feel, doesn't always change what we think of ourselves. I was told by one of the guys, Regine, that the only way to be cleared, is if we act like another person._

_But what if we don't want to act anymore? I know I've been doing it for so long, that I started believing in my fake acts, and my lies. It gets hard to keep track of-the lies- and that's normally when I get caught, and need to have an explanation worked out to push people off my back. I'm pretty good at explaining my actions, or simply covering up..._

_I'm getting bad again._

_The tears are burning my eyes, I can barely breathe. There's so much pressure, so much...anxiousness. I don't think it's the walls to blame, it's just me. It's always me. I wouldn't mind being placed on medication. I'm surprised that those fuckers haven't done it yet. Can't they see what I'm going through? CAN'T THEY? _

_I can't change my thoughts._

_ I'm suffocating. _

_I'm fucking drowning._

_I need Kendall. God, do I need Kendall.  
_

_To kiss him. _

_Hug him._

_Make love to him._

_Cry into him._

_Hold him._

_Be held._

_No, I shouldn't be thinking this. I need to be positive._

_Alright. Nothing more positive than kittens. Unless they're in a shelter...Fuck... How they look when you make eye contact, it's like they lost their souls...Their hope is diminishing, and any second, they can be euthanized because nobody wants them..._

_Stop, you're wanted. You're always wanted. Stop fucking thinking otherwise. Grow up. You're 18 years old. You shouldn't be thinking these thoughts. You should be thinking about how wonderful your life will be if you just LET yourself be fucking happy!_

_I have Kendall._

_But what happens when he goes away. He's bound to leave me..._

_Everyone leaves me..._

_Why couldn't they have let me die..._

_I hope you're fucking glad to be letting me write down shit, you fucking pricks. Sucks you can read this, but oh well. Know I haven't changed. Know that your 'therapeutic passage' isn't fucking working. _

_Want to know what's in my head?_

_Kill yourself, you are worth nothing to this world. You can't even lift a finger without thinking how useless you are. You should just die, little prick. Stupid. Ugly. Freak. Kill yourself. Die. You have thoughts of hurting others? You should die for that. You complain so fucking much, your vocal cords should be cut, and your eyes gorged out because you can't even appreciate the little things in your life. Just die. Slit your wrist. Let the blood cascade down your arms, portraying a flood wiping out a village. You're so weak to want that. To hurt yourself. Cut. Burn. Scratch. Bite. All that deems you to a path of insanity._

_Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch.S Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die. __Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._ _Cut. Burn. Scratch. Die._

_______________Save me_

_______________Your fucked up patient,_

_______________James _

I scrunch my shirt in a fist, as I desperately try to catch my breath. Rage turns my vision red- my journal chucked violently across the room, slamming into the wall with a loud bang, possibly loud enough to be concernedly heard outside in the hall. Suddenly, I feel sick to my stomach as I cry out, hitting the walls, just wanting to rid of this feeling that acted as a parasite within me. My hands become chalked, and soon blood splats across the baby blue that surround me, engulfing me to strict paranoia. I relish in the pain that now shot up my arms to my brain, sending chills spiraling through my entire body. Continuously, I throw punches, hearing cracks every now and then as the bones in my hands began to crumble at the force.

"GET ME OUT! GET ME OUT! SOMEONE, GET ME OUT OF HERE!" As if on queue, nurses flooded my room, grabbing at me. Their cold hands sent me in a bewilder-like rampage, and I flung at them with my fists. One made contact with my African nurse, Ameila, but I didn't realize it. I was too blinded by the emotions that burned me, singing blackness into my heart with each beat of every person in the hospital. Nurse Marie managed to stick me with an anesthetic, and in my panic, I didn't see the black that cornered me until I was out.

I was grateful for it. Maybe now they see.

Oh, I hope they see.


End file.
